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big sleeper Jan 31
there is a blazing hole in the sky
where the sun decided to see itself out

"hello,
i am still here,
can you hear me?
i am still underneath
the miserable weight
of ten stories of steel and concrete"

you were once
the air i breathed
and now you are
crushing me

did you come to hate me slowly
or all at once

"hello,
i tried to call
but the line died.
come home
i miss you so much
this never happened"

i stepped into
a hole in the deck
where the board
had rotted through
i tried
to pull out my leg
but the wood cut deep
and cut true
i yelled
for help as the blood
flowed into my socks
and into my shoes
i cursed
your name
at the end
i cursed
your name
ManxPoetryGuy Jan 21
Living life on a string,
I sat on the shelf above the wood carvers bench.
I stare out the window as a shooting star fades into the night sky,
It flies away, it has no strings, unlike me.

I was a popular toy,
The woodcarvers favourite in fact,
he would always show me off to the boys and girls,
a tap of the foot, a tip of the hat, the usual evening act.

He doesn’t play with me anymore,
He hasn’t for a very long time.
He’s been under the covers of his bed,
I’m afraid he’ll never wake up.

The room is often dark, damp and very cold,
The wood of my body is starting to splinter and mould.

A rotten stench fills the room and floods my nose,
A vase is filled with rancid water and a single, wilted rose.

I try to move but my body is as stiff as a board.
I try to call for help but my mouth does not open.
The paint that was once my eyes has faded away,
Blinding me in one eye, but I can still almost see the sky.
The speckles in the dark,
The stars in the great abyss,
What secrets do they hold,
Are they like me, do they got old, do they have strings like me?
The question bounces around my empty shell.

Another blink, a flash of light,
Pierces the sky with its mighty flight.
Followed by another, and another, and another
And another…

The sky filled with beams of light,
Stars travelling freely through the night,
No strings to hold them back.

A creak, a crack, and a fall.
The shelf had finally succumbed to the rot,
And with its contents, I begin my descent,
The cold dark floor below me making its approach.

Fear should have gripped me,
But instead, a warmth filled its place.
Is this how the stars feel when they fall from the sky?
It feels almost… peaceful.

I feel for the first time in a long time,
Like I can smile.
Falling with the stars,
I can’t help but feel happy.

There are no strings on me…
I am free…
Here I present a rather dark version of Pinocchio
Naveen Malhotra Dec 2020
Rot is written
Written is beautiful
So rot is beautiful
Simple logic
Any confusion?
Rot skillfully
Make wine, vinegar
Poet's skills
Rot is written
Written is beautiful
So rot is beautiful
Man Nov 2020
there were oil stains outside his house
where the car had sat
like the stains,
he bore marks
little pocks
that had worn on his face

from a life he lived

al a erosion

though each scar, skin deep
as shallow as the rest
he felt best
when they bled
Somewhatdamaged Sep 2020
The ones who slay the human lives
Are mostly the religious fanatics
Scared imbeciles
Afraid of what they've done
Or afraid to rot in hell
But forgot
This is the hell that we created!
judgement is made in this world!
Tasha Sep 2020
Rotting means having your brain
collapse in on itself in a grey gooey heap.
It means your eyes
falling apart and your tongue swelling up
and bursting
under the weight of a thousand maggots.
It's cutting your stomach into ribbons
and letting it shrivel into nothing.
It's letting your bones wither and crack
and your hair fall out
and it means curling up into a
dry
dusty
gooey
broken
slimy
oozing
ball.
I think I'm rotting.
Please help me.
Please help me,
I'm rotting.
Mari Aug 2020
Rot
Let the rotting
rot.
basil May 2020
i spit out
the words
you put in my mouth
so you feel
okay

but the taste
of rot
and rust
still remains
on my
tongue
05.19.2020
Lilly F Apr 2020
you were my spring honey
the aftertaste of your lips dripped from my own
from my chin down my neck,
leaving yellow streaks
slowly choking the air out of my lungs
suffocating me with your sweet affection
i think we may need a break

©L.F.
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